


A Matter Left To Resolve

by Erik_Coffee



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Dad Reaper, Edgy Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Hurt, M/M, Reaper Still Cares, this had to be done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 20:52:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19449325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erik_Coffee/pseuds/Erik_Coffee
Summary: "Slowly, lifting the bow in a fluid motion, he turned, string stretched all the way back in an instant.Trained muscles contracted sharply as adrenaline shot through his body.He was smart enough not to call out as not to alarm possible enemies near his position.But there was no one there. No one up on this tower with him – or was there?"





	A Matter Left To Resolve

**Author's Note:**

> A little something that had to be done. 
> 
> The idea of this oneshot came from the feather of my beloved brother - @ya_pendragon -, who btw, is a glorious Hanzo cosplayer himself! Also, he drew this wonderful art! :3 This one's dedicated to him :)
> 
> If you have criticism/annotations - they're really welcome! :3 Enjoy!

[](https://ibb.co/nDnbYBX)  


A cold wind cut through his shirt’s fabric as Hanzo changed position once more. The sore soles of his feet prickled thankfully as the blood rushed back into his veins. He had been sitting up here for a good hour and a half now, only the constant chattering of his communicator to keep him company.  
Germany sure as hell would not become his favourite destination, he thought, as a drizzle of rain hit his face. Though, the architecture the aged tower he took up position on sure had his charm, moss having claimed most of the grey stones around him. 

The archer relaxed the bowstring to stretch his fingers for a second as it was almost time to deliver his report. Talon hadn’t shown up yet, which was indeed worrisome though not unusual. Their informants’ clues often turned out to be dead ends. The closer Overwatch got on the organisation’s heels, the more difficult it was to pinpoint their next move. 

Hanzo turned up his jacket’s collar to withstand an upcoming breeze, preventing the wind from muffling his words. Just as he cleared his throat, he realized the steady static in his ear was gone. A chill went down his spine when he found the whole communicator was indeed missing – and he didn’t even notice a thing. 

Slowly, lifting the bow in a fluid motion, he turned, string stretched all the way back in an instant. Trained muscles contracted sharply as adrenaline shot through his body. He was smart enough not to call out as not to alarm possible enemies near his position. But there was no one there. No one up on this tower with him – or was there? 

Too late he noticed the pitch-black smoke swirling in abstract curls around his feet. Too late he boggled away as the dark mist wrapped around his limbs, encircling his body and leaving it immobile to struggle like a fly in a spider’s web. The bow clattered to the ground as his fingers were forced to open. He chocked at the taste of rotten meat and cold tobacco on his tongue. The surreal grip was cold but he didn’t shiver.

Even before the inky mass started to materialize before his eyes, he knew who he was going to face. His heartbeat rose, thumping in his ears and blocking out the sounds of combat that had began to rise to his feet. A finger, more a monstrous claw than a human limb emerged, pressing itself to lips yet to fully develop. Hanzo kept himself still, mind rattling around a way to escape the inevitable as the Reaper’s intimidating form took shape. The man’s bone white mask gleamed slick wet with rain, a shotgun’s rifle directed to the ground in his left hand, Hanzo’s communicator in the other. A solid screaming of various jerky sentences filled the air between them. The long black coat hang perfectly still, as if the wind couldn’t touch him.

“Interesting indeed,” the hollow voice sounded and Hanzo couldn’t fight the feeling of being surveyed by eyes he could not see. “So you did follow your brother after all, Shimada.” Reaper turned the babbling communicator over in his hand, examining the tech. His body was wavering, smoky tendrils constantly dissolving from his form. The man did not attempt to lift one of his weapons to him, apparently feeling safe with Hanzo being pinned to place. Instead an uneasy quiet unfolded between them.  
The archer opened his mouth to argue, to ask how he knew his name, how the hell he knew about his brother – but he thought better of it. Reaper was working for Talon after all. 

He tensed when the communicator’s static abruptly died away as the channel was switched to a private frequency and a new voice emerged. “You okay, Han?” Reaper stiffened at the tone. McCree silenced for a second and the device vibrated as three shots sounded close to the microphone. “Come on, answer me Han. ‘m worried over here, y’know?” 

Reaper snorted under his breath, the shadows clawing at Hanzo slowly dissolving but not yet giving him free. The shotgun clattered to the ground, discarded like a nuisance as the man grabbed at his mask. It came off with a sickening crack and the archer’s eyes widened in shock.  
A gleaming red gaze stared back at him, penetrating his mind like a needle. The pallid brown skin came off around his jaw, dissolving and attaching into the plumes of smoke surrounding him. Exposed bone and teeth shone weakly in the dying moonlight. 

Reapers mouth twisted into a crooked grin. 

“¿Cuál es el problema,Shimada? Seen a ghost?“ 

Hanzo couldn’t help but stare. That man was nothing more than a corpse – but he did know that face. Jesse still carried his picture around in his breast pocket. The former commander of the Blackwatch division – known to have died during the explosion of the swiss headquarter, Gabriel Reyes.  
His heart lurched. He did not know the men when he was still alive but the way Jesse talked about him sometimes, subconsciously portraying him like the father he never had was a harsh contrast to the terrorist with the bone-like mask standing in front of him. 

Reaper lowered the communicator whilst approaching him gingerly. Black mist swivelled and swirled around his legs, the leathery coat billowing behind him. When the two men’s faces were only inches apart, the taste of decay almost unbearably on Hanzo’s tongue, he stopped. 

“I believe thanks are in order,” the deformed mouth breathed next to his ear. “Keep my boy safe for me, hijo, will you?”

In an instant the Reaper dissolved into a plume of smoky strings, the pressure on Hanzo’s body fading with the black mass running down the side of the tower. A shivering breath escaped him, that he didn’t even realize he was holding.  
Sounds of gunfire and screaming came crashing down on him, as if he would’ve stepped outside a soundproof booth. Intuitively he grabbed for his bow, a reassuring sensation flooding through him when he found it lying next to his feet. As was the communicator. Left where Reaper stood only seconds ago. Hanzo brought it warily up to his ear, fastening it into position.  
The static biting into his head told him that, apparently, he was back on the main server. 

Hoarsely, he brought the mic to his mouth to deliver the overdue report when a cracking sound alerted him seconds before a hand grabbed his shoulder. He spun, delivering a blind blow with his elbow.  
A voice grunted in pain; the hand swiftly being pulled away.  
“Woah woah, it’s jus’ me!” Jesse revolted whilst stepping out of Hanzo’s range. “I’m sorry,” the archer huffed as he caught the other’s worried glance.  
“Sneakin’ up on ya will be the end of me one day,” he snorted, bending down to pick up the bow but froze, as the discarded shotgun caught his eye. “What happened?”  
“Nothing. The communicator lost frequency, is all. We should leave this place; it is not safe anymore.” 

McCree arched an eyebrow at him but kept his mouth shut. Tickling information out of Hanzo he did not wish to share was a lost cause most of the time.


End file.
